


II. Locked Up

by mymutedmusings



Series: The B-Side: The First Times of Mickey Milkovich [2]
Category: Shameless (TV), Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:24:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mymutedmusings/pseuds/mymutedmusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Mickey landed himself in juvie he was nine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	II. Locked Up

II. Locked Up

The first time Mickey landed himself in juvie he was nine. His father woke him up on a Saturday at 8 in the morning ordering him for more booze. A thorough inspection of the fridge revealed none. Same in the cupboards. By the time he was done checking, his father was back in the sofa passed out drunk before the morning news even finished airing. He knew he needed more alcohol before his father woke up. Otherwise, he shouldn’t even count on having a roof above his head tonight. That or nurse his fractured ribs and busted lip. He managed to scrap seven dollars and forty-six cents from all the lunch money he “asked” from the kids in school. That is, of course, minus the money he had given Mandy yesterday for her lunch.

A walk to the liquor store took him about eight minutes and along the way he manages to stealthily steal an extra dollar from Billy, the homeless, blind veteran, sitting on the corner of the street. The street was familiar and the uneven pavements felt a lot like home. Which in some occasions it was. When he reached the store where everyone came out with a little brown bag, he went straight to the counter and laid out his money.

“I’ll get everything I can with these,” He muttered, puffing out his chest to make himself look older.

The old man with a thick Italian accent did not even bother looking up from his newspaper and just simply drank from his coffee mug. “Come back when you can read this sign,” He said still with his eyes on the paper while pointing at the handwritten sign “OVER 21 ONLY. NO EXCEPTIONS!” hanging by the counter.

“But it’s for my dad,” Mickey stammered desperately.

“Of course, it is.” The old man turned to another page as Mickey grabbed his money and stormed off.

 

He came back to the store later that afternoon sporting a fresh black eye courtesy of his father. He watched the old man from the windows, like a cop. Except he hated cops. Well, maybe not as much as his dad hated cops but enough to avoid them at all times. Anyway, he waited until the old man needed to go use the restroom. At quarter past four, the old man stood up and walked to the back. Seizing the opportunity, he sprinted inside and grabbed a huge bottle of Tequila and ran out. As he turned the corner, he ran into a cop and fell butt first, smashing the alcohol into hundreds of pieces.

 

Later that night Mickey found himself, on the bottom bunk in a juvie cell, deciding that now he really hated cops and praying he could stay there for a little longer. Or at least just until his father had forgotten about telling him to get booze. He eventually found comfort in knowing it wouldn’t take very long.

He was about to fall asleep when he suddenly felt what seemed like a small earthquake. Just like how they were taught in school, he ran for the desk and hid beneath it. By the time he reached safety, the earthquake seemed to have stopped. He got out from the desk and that’s when he heard Matt, his 14-year-old cellmate, gasp from the top bunk. When he looked up, he saw Matt with his hand underneath his pants as he writhed about the bed. It lasted for a few minutes until Matt’s gasps were getting louder as his body finally stiffened.

As he caught his breath, Matt’s eyes met Mickey’s, “The fuck are you looking at, creep!?” Matt turned his back against Mickey and began to doze off.

Mickey went back to the bottom bunk and for the first time completely aware of the little tent pitched on his pants.


End file.
